


Insight

by Lumelle



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Permanent Injury, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-03 11:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13340550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: An unfortunate accident in a tennis match leaves Atobe doing his best to adjust. However, he's not the only one affected — there is also the one responsible for his injury.





	1. Shame

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Konomi. He's the one who named Atobe as a historical samurai who gouged out one of his eyes (Date Masamune).
> 
> Originally written and posted in 2009-2010 on my LiveJournal and Fanfiction.net accounts, posted here with minor language edits.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arranging a practice match took a lot of work, enough so to be called a pain. Even so, Atobe never thought he would get literally hurt for his efforts.

As far as logic served, a practice match shouldn't have been all that hard to arrange. After all, they were both high-profile tennis clubs, within a reasonable travelling distance from each other, both certainly aware of the other's existence. Considering they'd even managed a practice match with Rokkaku, it certainly wasn't unreasonable to think of having one with Rikkai.

Even then, though, it had taken a truly ridiculous amount of time to arrange the matches. Atobe suspected it had to do with Yukimura. It wasn't that he had anything against the other captain, aside from the fact he considered Yukimura a prissy little princess craving for attention; they simply didn't get along very well. As such, he finally let Sakaki handle the negotiations. After that, everything went much more smoothly.

It had been a lot of work, certainly; however, it was all well worth it just for this one moment. He couldn't keep the smirk off his face as he finally walked onto the court, shaking hands with Sanada over the net. This was the one match he'd been waiting for. It seemed that whenever they tried to play against each other, someone or something would interfere; this time, though, there was no reason for either Yukimura or Sakaki to step in.

The smirk was still on his face as he served.

For as long as they rallied back and forth, the match seemed to pass by incredibly fast. On one level of his consciousness, Atobe knew they kept fighting for each and every point until the very last, yet it seemed he'd barely blinked and they were already at four all. It was like none of the endless shots and serves meant anything the moment they'd finally been solved into a point for one or the other. And that was it, wasn't it. The match didn't matter beyond the pleasure he drew from it; only the outcome of it was important.

Tannhauser Serve. Wind. Rondo towards Destruction. Fire. World of Ice. Lightning. Had he stopped to think of it, Atobe might have smirked at the awed expressions on the faces of their audience; as it was, he merely focused on returning each shot as it came towards him, whatever it took to accomplish that task.

Until one of the shots hit him directly in the face, sending him flying on his back. There was an unpleasant sound as his head hit the ground.

It was shameful, really. He certainly should have seen it coming. Then, he doubted Sanada had exactly planned for that exact route for his shot, either, judging by his rather startled shout of, "Atobe!" that Atobe could just barely tell apart from the rest of the voices.

It hurt. It really hurt. Then again, he probably shouldn't have expected anything else. Sanada wasn't known for being gentle in his shots, so to get his head rattled first by a ball in the face and then contact with the court wasn't exactly going to be enjoyable.

Though it took him a second to recover, he was already pushing himself up as the first worriers rushed close. "Stop fussing," he hissed, waving his concerned teammates away. "I'm perfectly all right."

"You hit your head pretty badly, though," Oshitari pointed out even as the others did step back. "Might want to have that checked. No need to play a hero for a practice match, y'know."

Atobe gave him a dry chuckle, shaking his head. He immediately regretted it; it hurt an awful lot, not that he was going to admit that. "You were just looking for an excuse to tell me to get my head checked, weren't you?"

"That too… but I'm actually concerned." Oshitari raised his eyebrows even as he picked up Atobe's racket, reaching it out for his captain to take. "That did look pretty bad."

"The worst there'll be is a bruised eye," Atobe sighed. "Not that I'm exactly enthusiastic about that, but it's hardly worth panicking. My head's taken worse hits."

"But Atobe," Jirou whined, standing at the edge of the court. He looked rather distressed; Atobe hadn't often seen such an expression on his face. "What if you got a concussion or something? You should rest and get it fixed!"

"I told you, I'm fine." Atobe finally reached his hand towards the offered racket, grasping on it.

His hand met nothing.

Atobe frowned. So did Oshitari. As he tried to grasp on the racket again, the genius instead drew it back, raising his other hand. "…Atobe." Oshitari looked at him seriously. "How many fingers?"

Atobe rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, Oshitari. Three. Now give me my racket."

Oshitari was still frowning, but he did hand the racket back. Atobe stepped forward, taking it from him. This time, he got a good grip.

"I apologize for the interruption," he said smoothly, turning back to the court. "Shall we continue?"

Even Sanada, he noted, was looking at him with the most peculiar expression. Atobe ignored this. It had been Sanada's point, hadn't it? And now it was his serve. Most excellent.

For some time, they continued playing. There was something funny with his Insight, much though he hated to admit it, but he made up for it with his instincts. Even then, though, he kept slipping, Sanada gaining advantage slowly but surely. He hadn't hit his head that badly, though… had he?

As he finally made his way to the bench, Oshitari was there already, pushing him down before he could say a word. He wasn't the only one, however. Sakaki himself stood up from his seat, leaning closer to Atobe.

Atobe was almost startled as a hand was suddenly held over his right eye. "Atobe." Sakaki's voice was extremely serious, now. "Do you see me?"

"Of course I do," Atobe huffed incredulously, taking his water bottle as Kabaji offered it to him, taking a big, almost undignified gulp. He had certainly had to work to keep up with Sanada, yet his points were slipping. It was just unforgivable. As was this strange behavior from everyone else. What were they thinking, honestly? "Why would I not see you?"

Instead of answering, his coach merely nodded grimly, removing his hand. Then, however, he set his hand over Atobe's left eye instead, this time moving it much slower.

Atobe saw the approaching shadow of the teacher's hand. However, as it got closer, he started to panic, much though he worked to hide the fact. Instead of simply seeing the hand approach, he found his field of sight entirely covered by the fine-boned hand. As it closed over his eye, he found complete darkness in front of himself. His both eyes were wide open, he knew they were, yet he couldn't see anything.

"…And now?" Sakaki asked, sounding uncharacteristically quiet. Even without seeing Atobe could tell the entire team was staring at him, waiting for his response.

It might have been easy to lie, of course, to hide the problem. However, it would have been just as easy for the coach to simply do something similar to what Oshitari had done — ask for the number of fingers, if he could find nothing less cliché than that. And there was no way he was going to make it through that test by anything but a lucky guess, this time.

"…I can't." His voice sounded hoarse even in his own ears.

Then the hand was away and he was looking at Sakaki again, Sakaki who looked more serious than ever before, and then the coach stood up, turned towards Yukimura, and said the words Atobe hadn't thought he would ever hear. Certainly not during this one match. Certainly not against Sanada.

"Hyoutei's Atobe forfeits."

He stood up, meaning to protest, to tell that he would not forfeit, he was perfectly capable of playing damn it and if Seigaku's Fuji had done it completely blind then Atobe wouldn’t have any problem whatsoever with only one eye. However, as soon as he was on his feet, he found himself swaying somewhat ominously as a dizzy feeling took over him. His hand shot out, reaching for the back of the bench for support. However, he got the distance wrong, his hand just barely missing the bench.

He was almost grateful for the blackness that swallowed him as he started to fall, at least saving him from having to witness the utter embarrassment of his failure.


	2. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanada isn't quite prepared for the rather violent reaction some of the Hyoutei players have to his arriving at the hospital. Then, he also isn't prepared for the various feelings that come with finally meeting Atobe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the second PairPuri, Jackal actually reveals that Sanada cried in the bathroom after his match against Tezuka. Canon fact.

Sanada was not exactly surprised to find the entire Hyoutei in the waiting room as he arrived at the hospital. It was only natural for the team to take an interest in their captain's health, even more so as it was in sudden decline. If the same had happened to Yukimura, he would have personally punished anyone who did not seem concerned about the captain's state. Not that there would have been any need for that, of course — it was rather unthinkable for someone in a proper team to be that detached.

Hyoutei was a proper team, he thus concluded, eyeing the apparently rather anxious boys gathered there. Not that he could blame them, of course. Even his own teammates had seemed rather startled at the situation, at least once they'd stopped joking about it and realized that it was a serious matter. Kirihara in particular had seemed somewhat shocked; while harming his opponents was hardly all that strange to the youngest in the team, he seemed startled that someone as strong as Atobe could appear so... hurt. Sanada rather agreed. He'd noticed something wrong with Atobe's playing after the hit, yet he'd never even imagined it might be something quite this serious.

The word was there was something wrong with Atobe's eyes. If that was true... if that was true, well, Sanada wasn't even sure he knew how to feel. Eyes were important to anyone, and even more so to someone like Atobe, who was so very proud of his exceptional eyesight. If Sanada had caused that to be harmed...

That couldn't be true, though. Something like a single ball certainly couldn't do any irreparable damage. Not to someone as strong as Atobe.

His musings came to a halt as the Hyoutei players finally noticed his approach. While he hadn't exactly expected to be welcomed with open arms, Sanada was still quite taken aback as one of them shot up fro where he was sitting, immediately rushing towards him.

"You!" the other boy shouted, grasping on the front of Sanada's shirt. "How dare you show your face here!" Sanada couldn't immediately recall his name; he was a doubles player, though, and a skilled one at that. He had the most tolerable fashion sense out of the Hyoutei team, too, considering the cap and everything. He'd seemed a bit short-tempered but... this was bordering on assault.

"Shishido-san," said one of Hyoutei's tall second-years, the one with light hair who actually spoke sometimes. He sounded rather worried, approaching the two of them. "Shishido-san, you shouldn't —"

"Shut up, Ootori," snapped Hyoutei's little redhead. "That idiot's the reason Atobe's here!" He strode closer to Sanada and... Shishido?... and glared at Sanada. "Feel like gloating, huh? First Tezuka and now Atobe. What's next? Are you going to get your own captain hurt, too?"

Sanada returned the glare more or less calmly, even though in the inside, he was more shaken by the words than he wanted to show. The match against Tezuka... he hadn't cried, of course he hadn't, but somehow his eyes had still been leaking water when nobody could see, probably just an allergic reaction or something. And the thought of Seiichi getting hurt again... well. He'd rather take any pain upon himself than allow any of it to touch his captain again.

"Calm down," he said coolly. "Hurting Atobe was not my intention." It was the truth. He had won the match, but not the way he had wanted. His match against Tezuka had been unsatisfactory, and this one was even more so. He could not accept this victory. Not this way.

"Why are you here?" Shishido asked angrily, his voice practically shaking. "Did you come to gloat? To finish your job?"

"I told you to calm down." Sanada grasped on one of Shishido's wrists, hoping to tear his grip off his shirt. "I did not come here to gloat but to see Atobe."

"Like hell you did," the redhead hissed. "Do you really think we'll let you anywhere near him?" He strode up to Shishido's side, now, trying to look intimidating despite his rather minuscule frame. "You probably think it's amusing to see him in the hospital, but —"

"I would never think that," Sanada interrupted him. He was doing his best to stay calm despite the provocation. He knew all too well how distressed they must have been right now. "I know better than anyone the pain of seeing your captain hurt."

"Gakkun, listen to the good man." The bespectacled genius — Oshitari, or something — stepped forward now, setting his hands on the redhead's shoulders. "You too, Shishido. This's not the time or place to argue." Oshitari raised his eyebrows as he looked at Sanada. "If he'd wanted to really hurt Atobe, he could have done much worse." ...Well. That was some sort of trust, wasn't it.

"You, too, Shishido-san," added... Ootori, wasn't it? "If you start fighting, you'll get kicked out, and then we can't even see Atobe-san..."

That at last seemed to get Shishido's attention. He finally let go of Sanada's shirt. Sanada in turn released his wrist. "You're not seeing him before us, though," he growled at Sanada even as he stepped back. "And don't be so sure he even wants to see you, either."

Sanada merely nodded. If Atobe didn't want to see him, he couldn't do anything about it.

Though the two hotheads stepped back, the atmosphere in the room stayed tense. They were all more or less silent. Sanada felt vaguely uncomfortable, especially as the one with blonde curls apparently started crying. He tried his best to ignore the Hyoutei team. He would merely see how Atobe was, and then he'd be done with his business here.

Finally a nurse appeared to tell them that Atobe was awake and done with examinations and could have visitors now. Sanada followed the team but didn't need Shishido's glare to remind him to stay out of the room as Hyoutei filed in. He did his best not to listen to any of the sounds from the inside, definitely not the anguished cry he was pretty sure came from the blond boy.

He wasn't sure how long he stood in the corridor, glowering at anyone who passed by. Finally, though, the Hyoutei players came out, all seeming quite shaken. "He said you can go in now," Oshitari said before leading his rather distressed-looking doubles partner away. Sanada nodded and walked in.

It appeared to be a private room, as was only to be expected. Atobe was lying in bed, his face turned towards the window. As he heard Sanada arriving, though, he turned to look at him. There was a rather notable bruise forming over his right eye. Sanada swallowed, forcing himself to stay calm. "Atobe."

"Sanada." Atobe nodded minutely. "...You know, my team has several theories as to why you wanted to see me."

"Not to gloat, certainly." Sanada walked closer, but halted short of reaching the bedside. "I just... wanted to see how you are."

"Oh, I’m just perfect, as you can certainly see. That's why I'm just relaxing here, isn't it?" Atobe raised his eyebrows before sighing. "I thought they'd never stop prodding me. Apparently I've got a rather severe concussion, meaning they won't let me sleep more than a moment at a time. So lovely."

"Clearly you can’t be too badly off if you still have the energy for sarcasm." Sanada tugged his cap a bit lower. Trust Atobe to make him feel awkward just by being himself. "...And your eyes?"

"Apparently, aside from the bruise, there's nothing wrong with my eye, per se." However, before Sanada could sigh in relief, Atobe added, "As for the optic nerve, though... the damage might be irreparable."

Sanada froze. "Optic nerve?" he echoed, then, more slowly, "...Irreparable?" As Atobe nodded, he was quiet for a while, then finally spoke. "...How bad is the damage?"

"Essentially..." Atobe's gaze was calm on him, not angry as he might have expected. "I'm completely blind in my right eye. And, it appears, I will stay that way."

Sanada tugged at his cap again, instinctively seeking to conceal his face. "...I'm sorry," he murmured. And he was. This was... even worse than with Tezuka. At least Tezuka's arm would hopefully recover.

"Not like it was your intention." Nevertheless, Atobe turned his eyes away. "I... will live."

"You can't play." Sanada could hardly even believe how calm he managed to sound, himself. "Not half blind."

"Not immediately, no." Atobe sighed. "The loss of depth vision, decreased field of sight... it would be quite foolish. Never mind that the doctors pointed out another such shot could make me completely blind, and as I'd be more vulnerable to start with..."

"I'm sorry." It was not something he said often, yet here he was saying it again for the second time in just a moment. Then, he had rarely felt quite as sorry as now. To lose tennis, and in such a manner...

"I already told you to stop apologizing... I'll soon start actually blaming you if you don't." Atobe shook his head. "Chitose is playing again. I will, too."

"Don't make me laugh." Sanada couldn't look at Atobe right now. "Of course you blame me. You're not that much of a saint, Atobe."

"Perhaps I'm still in something of a shock," murmured Atobe. "Perhaps the hit to my head was even worse than I expected. I'm certain I'll be angry enough in the future, but right now, I'm just feeling... numb."

"I... see." Sanada swallowed. "If... if there's anything I can do..."

"If there is anything, rest assured I'll let you know." He could hear the smirk in Atobe's voice. "...You might yet regret your words."

"That is not what I regret," Sanada said seriously. Then, in a rather uncharacteristic gesture, he stepped forward to the side of Atobe's bed, settling his hand over Atobe's just for a moment. "...I won't go back on my word."

Atobe's hand, he noticed, was shaking slightly.

Sanada hadn't cried after his match against Tezuka, he most definitely hadn't, it had been some sort of allergic reaction or something. However, as he finally walked out of Atobe's hospital room, he felt something stuck in his throat.

He still didn't cry, though. As long as Atobe didn't cry, Sanada had no right whatsoever to do so.


	3. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atobe's musings after Sanada's visit are interrupted as Sakaki appears to discuss his future options.

After Sanada's visit, it took Atobe a moment to collect himself. He'd somehow managed to keep up his smirk while his teammates had been there, not wanting to worry them any more. It certainly hadn't been too easy, especially with Jirou crying and Kabaji looking at him with pained eyes. He'd managed somehow, though, and pride had kept him from breaking during Sanada's visit, but by now he found himself rather out of any energy reserves. However shocked and worried everyone else might have been, he still claimed he was the one who had literally taken the worst hit, here.

It was... not the easiest piece of news he had ever received, certainly. The concussion he could handle; it was an annoyance, yes, and required him to be observed for some time yet, but he could live with that. It would heal, and relatively soon, too. That was not the problem, nor the various scratches and bruises. Even the rather notable bruise to his face was no problem; such imperfections could do little to affect his charm and beauty.

The most devastating injury, though... that would be harder to deal with. Much harder.

Sighing slowly, Atobe brought a hand to his face, covering his left eye. Everything suddenly fell into darkness. He blinked once, twice, a third time. There was no change.

It was... frightening, really. It was better than total blindness, certainly, but it was still bad. He was used to never having trouble seeing just about anything. The players who could beat his motion vision in the middle school tennis circuit were few and far between, and none of them had his Insight besides. If he'd had to pick the one ability he was the most proud of, he would have certainly mentioned his eyesight. A lot of his tennis style was founded on that; that and his endurance and just plain stubbornness.

Now that was gone. Sure, he could still see with one eye, but he knew very well that was not the same as having half of his former sight. Just the loss of depth perception alone was bad. And there wasn't even anything he could do. Tezuka's arm, Sanada's knees, even Yukimura's illness had all been treatable. But far as the doctors could say, there was nothing anyone could do for him. Of course they'd still do some more examinations, they'd look further and try to find some form of method to repair the damage... if that was possible. However, they had told him not to get too hopeful. Chances were he would never see with his right eye again.

He didn't need to see to realize he was crying.

An arm covering his eyes, Atobe clenched his teeth, trying his best to stop the tears. He wasn't this weak. He wouldn't let something like this break him. That would be just shameful.

It wasn't until he heard someone clearing their throat that Atobe took the arm from his eyes. Looking over to the doorway, he blinked, seeing a familiar form there. "...Kantoku."

"Do try to control your enthusiasm, please," Sakaki said smoothly, slightly adjusting his tie as he walked closer. "Someone might get the wrong idea."

"Do forgive me for not being too enthusiastic," Atobe murmured. "It's the strangest thing, I know, but I don't feel all too excited right now."

"That... might be within the limits of understandable." Sakaki seated himself neatly in one of the chairs available for visitors. "What is the verdict?"

"My eye is fine. The optic nerve is not." Atobe did his best to wipe his tears away. "My right will most likely stay blind." The other injuries were hardly even worth mentioning right now. They were only temporary, after all.

"I... understand." Sakaki nodded slowly, pressing his fingertips together in a pondering gesture. "So the damage is irreparable?"

"So it would appear." Atobe sighed. "...What happened after I... lost consciousness?" Of course, he'd still have to discuss his injury further; if there was one person he couldn't dodge forever in this matter, it was the coach. However, he welcomed any excuse he might still use to postpone that particular conversation. "The team was here earlier, but they didn't tell much... except that there was apparently some amount of chaos."

"One might say that. Everyone was quite shocked at the development." Sakaki's lips twitched a bit. "I might say I'm somewhat impressed at young Yukimura. He brought his team to control rather quickly."

"He does have his impressive points, yes," Atobe admitted. "Too bad they aren't more numerous."

"So very mature of you." Sakaki's eyebrows rose ever so lightly. "In any case, we got everyone to calm down without much of an incident. Everyone else was sent home but the regulars refused to leave before they heard from you. Yukimura-kun herded his own players away as well; as I understood, though, Sanada-kun had plans not to join them immediately."

"...Yes." Atobe turned his gaze away. On one hand, it had been very difficult to bear Sanada's visit, especially as he couldn't allow himself to show weakness... yet on the other hand, it had made him feel slightly better. At least Sanada wasn't entirely ignoring him or the damage he had made. "He... already visited. Asked how I was."

"That was decent of him, at least." A moment passed in silence before Sakaki finally asked the question Atobe had so been dreading. "And what do you plan to do now?"

"In all honesty? I have no idea." Atobe's eyes fell down to his hands. Well, one of his eyes did, at least; he supposed the other followed but he had no way to tell. "I... I want to say I plan to return to tennis... but it's not that simple, is it?" His hands clenched into fists. "My field of vision is reduced too much, and I have no depth perception. I couldn't even grab my damn racket, for goodness' sake!"

"You were still playing," Sakaki pointed out quietly. "It was perhaps not the smartest thing you might have done, but you did play."

"Yes. Poorly," Atobe said dryly. "Never mind forfeiting, I would have lost quite shamefully if the match had been brought to its end before that. I was doing everything I could yet Sanada was completely controlling the game. I couldn't even get my Insight to work properly..."

"I know." A quiet nod. "And aside from that, there is also an increased risk of new injuries. It will take a while before you can play on your usual level again."

"Indeed." Atobe sighed. "Perhaps... it's best I resign." He'd have had to resign soon anyway, wouldn't he? He'd been thinking he could perhaps use his influence to get a few more months, until the end of the year at least, but now that this had happened... perhaps it was for the best to simply leave in September.

"I... do not agree." Sakaki leant back in his chair, eyeing Atobe over his steepled fingers. "May I make a suggestion?"

Atobe nodded slowly. "Sure." At least he could listen to the coach's suggestion, whatever it was, before rejecting it.

"Very well." Sakaki's gaze was rather serious. "First, the basis of my suggestion is this. We both know you cannot return to tennis until you've adjusted properly. If you were to resign from the club, the captain would have to change. Hiyoshi is your choice for next year, and while I do agree that he will probably make a good captain by then, I dare say we both know he is not quite ready yet. And, though I don't say this often, you are a good captain. Whatever else one might say about your character, that much is true at least."

Atobe nodded again, not saying anything about the last comment though his eyebrows rose quite a bit.

"So. My suggestion is that for the time being, you continue as Hyoutei's captain as far as leadership and organization go, as well as teaching Hiyoshi about the technicalities involved. You will not participate in general practice, however, instead focusing on individual training at your own pace. By the end of the year you will leave everything to Hiyoshi and go on your own." There was a hint of a smirk on Sakaki's face as he finished, "And come April, you will enter Hyoutei High School, join the tennis club, and kick every damn ass from here to Hokkaido."

Atobe's eyes widened. "Kantoku!" he spat out, shocked. He'd never heard such language from the man before. "Are you sure that's the kind of language a teacher should use in front of his student?"

"I know perfectly well your mouth has no trouble with such language," Sakaki replied smoothly. "If you'd like, I can assist you in creating a new training menu."

"...Thank you, Kantoku." And he truly was thankful. There were few adults he had ever depended on, and most of the time Sakaki felt rather distant despite doubtlessly being one of the most brilliant coaches around, but right now it certainly felt good to know he had the man in his corner. "I'll make sure not to disappoint you." A beat. "Any Rikkai asses I see, I'll kick them extra hard."

"That's the spirit." Sakaki nodded, then got up from his chair. "I must go now. I've notified both the school and your parents," he said. "For now, I'll have Oshitari handle practices until you return. If something comes up, you know how to contact me."

Atobe nodded. "I'll... keep you updated."

"Excellent." For a moment, Sakaki was quiet, just looking at him. Finally, he spoke. "...Good luck."

"Luck won't help me here," Atobe mumbled even as the coach left the room. "Nothing will."

Ah, well. At least he'd stopped crying, now.

His hands were still shaking, though.


	4. Responsibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanada, Seiichi, and Renji have tea. Sanada shares the news and explains himself with Renji's help.

There wasn't a lot of discussion at first as the Three Demons gathered over at Renji's place for some tea. Sanada was being particularly quiet, saying little more than his usual greeting as he got seated at the table, listening to Renji and Seiichi's idle chatter about the cookies served. He didn't know what the rest of the team was doing; presumably they'd all gone home. Sanada had merely received a message from Seiichi upon leaving the hospital that had invited — or, rather, ordered — him to come to Renji's place right away.

Finally, Seiichi and Renji seemed to come to an agreement that yes, these vanilla-flavoured cookies were indeed good, and the captain turned to look at Sanada instead. "So you went to see Atobe." It was not a question. Then, there would have been no reason to make it a question, anyway; Seiichi knew perfectly well what he had done.

"…Ah." Sanada nodded briefly in agreement. "I… spoke with him." And thought about a lot of things, both during the conversation and after it. It had very nearly given him a headache. Stupid Atobe.

"Really, now." Seiichi glanced at him with some curiosity in his eyes. "And how was he?"

"He's better, now. At least, he's awake." Sanada shook his head. "But… not unhurt."

"What is wrong with him, then?" Renji asked, turning to look at him as well. "It did look quite bad when he was being carried off the court."

"Apparently… the shot to his face and then the hit to the ground did something… inside his head." He didn't know the details, obviously, but then there was no need to. "There's something wrong with his… optic nerve." It still seemed somehow absurd, almost. Tennis injuries were all about wrists and ankles and knees and such. They weren't supposed to have anything to do with the nervous system. …At least Yukimura's illness hadn't been a tennis accident.

"The optic nerve?" Renji frowned in what appeared to be concern. It was sometimes hard to tell with him, with his ever so calm expressions. Then, it wasn't like any of the three of them were too demonstrative about their feelings; Seiichi's serene smile, Renji's calmness, and Sanada's own frowns could all signify almost any number of emotions. "That sounds bad."

"It is bad." Sanada couldn't help but frown as well. "It appears his right eye is effectively blind." He paused for a moment. "He said it might be… irreparable."

"…Now, that is rather unfortunate." Yukimura actually looked rather sympathetic for a moment. "In the worst case, he'll be forced to retire from tennis entirely…"

"Hn." Sanada didn't like that thought. He may not have always particularly liked Atobe personally, but he did admit the other was a good player and an even better rival. The tennis circuit would have been much emptier without Atobe, and not only because he was one of the loudest, most attention-starved divas Sanada had ever had the displeasure to face. "He… said he's going to continue playing eventually."

"That would be rather consistent with his usual personality, yes." Renji nodded seriously. "Though I'd imagine it will take quite some effort for him to recover to his former level, what with the added disability. Assuming he can even manage that."

"He'll make it," Sanada said confidently. Of course Atobe would. Atobe always recovered. After all, anything else was just unimaginable.

"I would hope so," Yukimura commented. "As annoying as he can be at times, he has always been a good motivator for your training."

"…Hn." Sanada supposed that was true, not that he'd ever thought of it quite like that. He'd always thought his ultimate goal was defeating Tezuka, but Atobe had always been a part of that picture. To face Tezuka he'd have to beat Atobe, or at least that was what he'd always thought. Recently, he had started to wonder if Atobe wasn't the greater opponent of the two. Or, at least, Atobe had been until that unfortunate shot.

"Genichirou?" Renji's question made him look over to his friend again. "How did he react to your visit?"

"He… well." Sanada paused, thinking back. "He seemed oddly calm. Said he wasn't angry at me." Now that he thought about it, it seemed almost disturbing. Anger would have been the natural reaction, certainly. To have Atobe just look at him so very calmly had been strangely… upsetting. "He said he was just feeling numb, or something. His team was furious enough for him, though," he added then. "Well, some of them were. They practically attacked me when I showed up."

"One can hardly blame them," Renji murmured softly. "Though you hardly did it on purpose, few are happy to see their captain hurt."

"…Ah." Sanada glanced carefully at Seiichi. This was… not a subject they discussed too often. They were all certainly aware of what had happened, but now that it was over and Seiichi had recovered it just seemed rather… awkward… to bring the subject up at all. At least right now, Seiichi seemed to simply ignore their comments, calmly sipping his tea.

Sanada took a sip of his own tea. It had cooled down somewhat while they talked so he didn't burn his mouth at least. Renji quite calmly offered him the plate of cookies, but Sanada just shook his head. He wasn't a fan of sweet things, as Renji very well knew. It was quite enough he agreed to drink the flavoured teas his friends seemed so very fond of.

"…Anything else of note?" Renji asked after a moment. "You look like you still have something to say, Genichirou."

Sanada sighed silently. He'd never been able to hide anything from these two. "Ah, yes," he murmured. "I said… if there was anything I can do, I will. To help him, that is."

"Well, there's not much you can do, is there?" Seiichi pointed out. "It's not like you are a neurosurgeon or a doctor or anything like that."

If he were, he'd have never allowed Seiichi to get that badly hurt in the first place. "I can help him train," Sanada replied. "He will need someone who can accommodate him while he learns to play again."

"He has more than enough opponents as it is," Seiichi protested. "Hyoutei has the largest tennis team in the entire Japanese middle school circuit, and I'd imagine Atobe can afford any trainer or coach he wishes."

Sanada grunted in a non-committal manner, desperately wishing he'd had his cap to tug down to shield his face. However, his friends were always far too insistent on proper manners, especially Seiichi. According to them, one did not sit down for tea wearing a hat. Of course, Sanada himself certainly knew the value of good table manners, but they could have at least made an exception for his cap. It wasn't a hat, really. It was an… accessory.

"I think I can see where Genichirou is coming from," Renji said, gaining an almost grateful glance from Sanada. "Though he didn't cause Atobe's injury on purpose, he would like to bear at least some responsibility for the consequences. Ease his guilty conscience a bit, if you will. And certainly, he would prefer to see Atobe play again as soon as possible."

"He's a good rival," Sanada murmured, and again wished he'd had his cap to tug down. He felt rather awkward, what with the way Seiichi was looking at him. "…I want to win against him by skill, not accident."

"…Now that's certainly understandable." Seiichi nodded slowly, his face briefly bearing that look of annoyance mixed with amusement Sanada had already learnt to signify he was thinking of Echizen. "And… I must say I can sympathize with not being able to play to your fullest."

Sanada just nodded. Seiichi would. Even though the circumstances were quite different, there was still a degree of similarity between the situations of the two captains. And… maybe that was a part of the reason why this entire situation bothered him so much. Because it made him think of Seiichi in the hospital bed, wondering if he would ever play again.

Seiichi had recovered, though. Seiichi had overcome the adversity and returned to the courts. For Atobe, even if he could play again, some of the damage could never be repaired. Such a major part of the damage… the damage he had caused.

Sanada took another sip, hoping the warmth of the tea could help quell the nausea that was welling at the pit of his stomach. It didn't work quite as well as he'd hoped it would, but at least the cup helped conceal his grimace.

At least Seiichi didn't seem too mad at him for making such a promise.

That was a step forward, he supposed.


	5. Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atobe's father shows up, exhibiting some rather unusual emotions. Neither finds the situation very easy to handle.

Atobe wasn't really sure who to expect during the visiting hours. He supposed his team, or at least some of them, would show up sooner or later. There might even be other curious onlookers, though he doubted he would see many of those. By now his parents had been alerted, and as a result there was a man permanently posted at the door of his hospital room to make sure no unwanted visitors made their way in. Atobe supposed it was their way to show that they cared, though he mainly found it annoying. It was rather unlikely he'd be kidnapped right out of the hospital or anything, after all.

Given this fact, as well as the usual level of parental interference in his life — or, rather, the usual lack of it — he was rather surprised indeed to see his father walking into the room the moment the allowed visiting hours began.

"Father?" Atobe blinked. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to see you, obviously," Atobe Akihito replied smoothly. He didn't seem particularly shocked by his son's question, however strange most people might have thought it in such a situation. They both knew perfectly well that it wasn't exactly characteristic of him to rush to the hospital to see his son. His wife might have, if not for the fact that she wasn't in the country at the moment, but the expected reaction for Akihito himself would have been to simply assess the situation and then show up to take Keigo home when it was time for him to get discharged from the hospital.

"That's not an answer and you know it very well." Keigo glared at his father. "What do you want?"

"So hostile, Keigo. And here I am all concerned for you. I even brought your favourite chocolate." He produced a box of chocolates from somewhere, handing it to Keigo with a flourish. It was indeed his favourite brand, too. Obviously he'd asked the butler, or something.

"We both know you hardly think it your first priority to come check up on me if I'm obviously not dying," Keigo said dryly. "And as all that's still keeping me in the hospital are the tests that they insist on doing because they're too afraid of you to leave any stone unturned to possibly find a miracle cure, I hardly think you'd feel my wellbeing such an urgent issue."

"Ah, but while you're not dying, I heard there was indeed some permanent damage done." Akihito turned to look at him. "How are your eyes?"

"My eyes are perfectly fine," Keigo spat. "It's the nerves that are the problem, and you are currently getting on them."

"Such an amusing little joke, Keigo." His father raised his eyebrows. "It's your right eye, as I recall? The one that will not function anymore."

Keigo might have argued, might have still said that the eye worked just fine, but instead, he averted his gaze from his father. "…Correct." Much though he hated to admit the fact, he couldn't exactly change it just by insisting otherwise. If that alone had been a sufficient cure, there wouldn’t have been much cause for doctors in the world.

"I see." Was the man purposefully mocking him? "And the one who did this to you?"

"He's shown up and apologized." Keigo still didn't look at his father. He… wasn't sure what to think of Sanada's visit. "Case closed."

"Hardly." Suddenly there was a cold tone in his father's voice Keigo had very rarely heard, and usually only in matters much more grave and important than his health. "Apologized? I can hardly let him go with just that."

"Well, you will have to." Finally, Keigo turned to look at Akihito, glaring icily at him. Sanada was his to deal with, damn it. "I've spoken with him. I will deal with him. Period."

"He robbed you of half of your eyesight, Keigo. Surely you're not letting him go with a glare and a sharp word?" His father looked at him incredulously.

"It was an accident, father, and at least partly due to my own mistake in judging the path of the ball. It's not like you can press criminal charges." Keigo sighed. "What do you propose to do instead? Sue his family for what few pennies they could scrape together? That would benefit no one and you know it. I would much rather let him go and have him ready on the courts to face me when I make my return."

"What do you mean, your return?" Akihito looked at him as though he was stupid. Well, Keigo could do the exact same thing back.

"My return to the courts, obviously. What's so unclear about that?" Really, even his father should have known as much.

"But naturally, you will stop playing tennis." His father said this as though it were a self-evident fact.

"Most certainly not." Keigo glared at him. "I don't know where you got such an idiotic thought into your head, but it's not happening."

"I should think it's obvious." The man turned to look at him seriously. "You got injured while playing, did you not? And, as I understand, it was only through sheer luck that this was the worst that happened. I would be rather irresponsible if I let you continue pursuing such dangerous pastimes."

"I've been playing for the last ten years or so, and this is the first serious injury I've ever gotten," Keigo argued. "As you would know if you'd ever paid any actual attention to my life!"

"Don't take that tone with me, young man." His father looked at him sternly. "Perhaps, if I had taken more of an interest before, this would have never happened!"

"And how were you going to stop that? By never letting me play in the first place?" Keigo rolled his eyes. "Tennis is a sport, father. In sports, accidents and injuries are bound to happen. Granted, this is rather more dramatic than the usual pulled muscles and scraped knees, but hardly outside the realm of possibility." He shook his head. "I'm not saying I'm going to stand up and walk right back to the court, no. It would obviously be too risky to do that while I'm still so badly disadvantaged. However, I do plan to teach myself to account for this disability, in order to overcome it and return to the courts as the King once more."

"And I say you won't do anything quite that risky." His father crossed his arms over his chest. "I will not take the chance that you lose the sight in your other eye."

"And what if you force me to stop playing and the next day I stumble in the stairs and crack my head open?" Keigo asked. He was getting rather angry, now. "What if I take up knitting and accidentally stab myself in the eye? What if I fall from the bed in my sleep and find myself paralyzed? There are always risks you can't account for, father, and dangers your men can't save me from. You won't solve that by taking tennis away from me."

"I know there are risks," Akihito replied. "However, to me it seems you are rather piling up unnecessary risks on yourself. One might think that the accident would teach you to be more careful!"

"What do you care?" Keigo spat. "You're never here anyway! As long as nothing goes wrong, you hardly even remember I exist! I could probably kill a man right in front of you and you wouldn't bloody well care as long as I didn't get caught. Paternal concern is all fine and nice, but you have absolutely no right to exercise such concern if you've never shown it before!"

"Perhaps I've never had such a fright before!" his father replied with an equally angered tone. "How do you think I felt when my assistant came up to me and told me he'd just been called to inform me you'd gone blind?"

Keigo was somewhat startled to realize that his father was not lying, at least not entirely. The man really had been startled at the news. It seemed almost inconceivable, yet his father hardly had a reason to lie about such a thing. He had indeed never shown much concern for the details of Keigo's well-being before; therefore, there was no reason for him to pretend to do so now, unless he actually was concerned. It just seemed so… unnatural. Swallowing, he turned his gaze away.

"If you indeed are concerned," he said, forcing himself to use a calmer, low tone, "if you are indeed worried for my well-being… then please, don't rob me of any more precious things." He shook his head slowly. "I've quite effectively lost an eye. That should be bad enough. Don't take tennis away from me, too."

"Aren't you afraid?" Akihito took up the same quiet tone, too. "Doesn't it shock you at all? Don't you have any fear that the next time you walk onto the courts, you might lose the rest of your sight?"

"Of course I'm afraid." Keigo chuckled humourlessly. "I spent half of what little I slept last night in nightmares of darkness and pain… but there's one thing I'm even more afraid of." He raised his eyes to look at his father again. "The only thing I find even more fearful… is never being able to play again."

There was a long silence neither seemed too eager to break. Finally, his father nodded slowly. "…Very well."

Keigo knew it wasn't a great victory, but it was a start.


	6. Assurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Atobe gets out of hospital, Sanada doesn't decide to visit. Even then, he somehow ends up in Tokyo in the garden of what's more of a mansion than a house.

Sanada wasn't entirely sure just where Renji got his information from — probably through some convoluted chain of informants, it wasn't like he was in direct contact with Hyoutei — but he certainly was grateful when his friend chose to actually share the news with him. He wasn't sure what Seiichi would have thought of it, but he certainly appreciated hearing that Atobe would be able to leave the hospital that very day.

However, much though he was relieved at the fact, he was also rather certain Atobe himself wouldn't like to see him there. Or, at the very least, his teammates would not. Therefore, he decided not to go to the hospital to see Atobe as he was leaving, especially since Renji's information had not included the exact time Atobe would be let out.

However, his friend's data did indeed contain the address Atobe would be returning to.

It wasn't even conscious, for the most part anyway. It wasn't like he even knew the geography of Tokyo all that well, and if he did check out a map online, that was only so he could show up at some later time if Atobe happened to have need for him. After all, he had promised to help Atobe in whichever way he could during the recovery process. That was the only reason. If his afternoon run stretched a bit long that day, well, he did have a lot to think about, and he thought the best when his legs were moving. He might have even taken a bus at some point, but that was only to find interesting new places to run. So, it was all just a set of coincidences and natural conclusions to pre-established facts, like Renji probably would have put it.

Though he'd forgotten the exact address, it would have been quite hard to be mistaken. The area itself was fairly posh, full of rich-looking houses and high walls around gardens, but even among such places Atobe's home stood out. It was more of a mansion than a house, really, the walls around it stretching further than Sanada could readily trace. There was a lush garden around the house he saw out at the end of the very long driveway, with green grass and flowers and trees and whatnot. They probably had to employ a full-time gardener just to keep all that lawn mowed. Such extravagance made Sanada scoff. What was the use of that much grass if there were no tennis nets anywhere on it?

For a moment he stood before the gate, hesitating. He didn't know if he should press the doorbell or not. For all he knew, Atobe might even not be there, or wouldn’t want to see him, and anyway his family was probably worried sick and wanted to fuss over him. Sanada knew that certainly would have been the case had he been the one to return from the hospital. His mother apparently lived in the very mistaken mindset that a man's greatest dream in life was to always have someone hover about him and look after him. One might have thought one look at himself would have told her otherwise. All her fussing and care just made him feel very awkward.

Thus deciding against approaching just yet, Sanada forced himself to turn away and continue his run. However, he had hardly taken a step or two as he heard someone talking behind him. "Excuse me, young man?"

Turning to look, he saw an old man standing in front of the gate, eyeing him questioningly. How he had suddenly managed to surprise Sanada was a mystery, though the little bag he seemed to be carrying was something of an indication he had only just appeared. "Yes?" he asked with a frown, not because he was feeling angry but rather because he was slightly puzzled. What did a man dressed so strangely want with him? "Can I help you?"

"Were you hoping to go inside?" The man gave him a pleasant little smile. "I'm sorry to bother you, it's just that Keigo-sama's friends often are dressed like that..."

Sanada had to suppose he meant just sports clothing in general, not the Rikkai uniform. He was fairly sure there was nobody wearing that particular design who would have visited Atobe before. "Ah, no," he said. "Well, yes, but..."

"Oh, now, no reason to be shy." The man continued to smile at him. "It's all right, everyone else is here, too. They are throwing something of a party to celebrate his return. That's why I went to get these," the man added, indicating his bag with something that almost looked like a... wink. Had the man actually winked at him? "Keigo-sama's favourite candy."

"I never knew he liked candy." Perhaps not the most relevant thing to say, but it was just about the only thing Sanada could get out of his mouth. This man was a… servant? He didn't think even Atobe was smug enough that his parents would call him "sama". Besides, a house that size had to have servants, even if it was only to keep the floors clean. "...I don't think I'm wanted there, though."

"Oh, don't speak such nonsense!" The old man shook his head even as he walked to the doorbell and pressed some of the buttons on the panel. As the gate started to slide open, he nodded his head towards it. "Come on. I'm sure Keigo-sama will be glad to see how many people want to welcome him home."

Well. Apparently there was no shaking off the very persistant man. With a non-committal grunt, Sanada followed him slowly through the gates. They started walking down the driveway as the gates paused at their open position, then slid slowly closed again. "...Do you need help with that?" It was only polite to ask, after all.

"Oh, no, thank you," the man chuckled. "I just hope you won't mind my being slow. The old feet aren't what they used to be," he said, shaking his head. "But then, if you're Keigo-sama's friend, you're probably used to much more activity than I ever was. Oh, that boy never seems to sit down!" He tsked. "He'll wear himself out before he knows it!"

"Well... he did get hurt." To say that Sanada felt quite awkward stating that would have been quite an understatement. After all, he was the one who was actually responsible for the injury.

"Keigo-sama would hate to hear you say that," the man said with a small smile. "He keeps telling us all that tennis isn't to blame for his accident and he's, pardon me if I quote, 'damn well going to get back on the bloody courts as soon as possible.'" He shook his head again. "That boy will be the death of us all! His father is very concerned, you know. Says he shouldn't strain himself so much... but it's not like Keigo-sama ever listens to what's good for him, oh no."

Well, that certainly sounded like Atobe all right. Sanada tugged his cap a little lower. "...I'm sure Atobe's strong enough to come back." It was about the only hope he had of ever forgiving himself.

"Nobody ever doubted that." They were already approaching the mansion as the man instead took him to a path apparently circling around the building. "Keigo-sama and his friends are in the back garden," he said in response to Sanada's slightly questioning gaze. "We have everything set up there. It's faster if we go around the house."

Sanada wasn't sure if he believed that, looking at the size of the building, but he certainly wasn't going to argue with someone who actually lived there and knew what they were talking about. Therefore he just nodded and walked on.

It wasn't all that long before the back garden opened up before them, though Sanada still thought the house was far larger than anyone could ever have any actual use for. The sounds of the party reached them before he could even catch sight of anything. Hyoutei was apparently a noisy lot, he mused, pausing in his steps right after turning the corner as he looked out into the small party set up in the garden. There were a couple of tables with food set on them, snacks and sweets and fizzy drinks, as well as seats for everyone and a couple of games and other such entertainment. There were quite a few people there, not only from Hyoutei; in the small group most closely surrounding Atobe he saw Tezuka, looking slightly awkward almost squeezed between Hyoutei’s blond — Akutagawa? Something like that, he was pretty sure — and the ever lively Kikumaru, with Oishi trying in vain to make them calm down. Sanada supposed it made sense for them to be here. Seigaku was close to Hyoutei, from what little he had seen. He supposed Renji had gotten his information from Seigaku's Inui, who was currently standing out of the worst of the crowd and apparently trying to get a word out of Kabaji.

Sanada couldn't exactly tell what the chatter was about, there was too much noise for him to make out the individual voices, but he did hear very loud and clear as Atobe suddenly raised his voice in response to something one of the people around him had apparently said or done, a hush falling over the rest of the party. "I'm not actually blind, damn it!" he snapped angrily, sitting up straighter in the chair he was currently seated in. "Nor am I crippled or devoid of sense entirely. Yes, my depth perception's pretty well gone, yes, my field of vision is reduced, but for what good it does, my left eye can see just fine. So stop treating me like I was somehow permanently broken!"

Sanada almost wanted to speak up. He almost wanted to point out that yes, Atobe had been affected quite permanently, but he supposed that would not exactly have been the wisest action. Instead, he just tugged his cap down again, hiding the tiny smile that threatened to curl his lips.

Oh, yes. Why had he been worried, again? Atobe would most certainly be just fine.

"Oh, my," the old man said, a small smile still on his face. "I suppose I should go and save everyone from Keigo-sama's temper." He started to walk forward, then paused as he saw Sanada wasn't moving. "You're not coming?"

"Ah… no." Sanada shook his head, looking over to where Kikumaru was apparently making his apologies. Somehow, he wasn't surprised. "I don't think I need to." He'd already gotten what he had come here for, after all.

Turning around, he left the slightly puzzled man looking after him.


	7. Determination

Of course, it wasn't that Atobe didn't appreciate the gesture. Quite to the contrary; he felt rather touched that everyone would gather together to welcome him home, even though it did slightly irritate him that they were all treating the situation as though he had barely recovered from some grave illness. It wasn't like he was the second Yukimura or something, after all, and even if it would take him a moment to return to the court it wasn't because his body couldn't take it. Everyone was fussing over him as though he were an invalid, oh don't bother to get up Atobe I'll get that drink for you, when all he really wanted to do was to be up and about to remind himself he wasn't stuck in that stupid hospital room anymore. After a couple of sharp comments and that one minor explosion they seemed to be finally getting the hint, but even so, Atobe found himself rather irritated over the constant concerned glances.

Even Tezuka was doing it. He would have thought Tezuka at least would be reasonable, he'd been injured himself after all, surely he knew how annoying it was to be coddled like this. Yet even Tezuka seemed uncomfortable from time to time, very decidedly avoiding any mentions of Atobe’s condition or even tennis, as though a mere mention of the sport might make him break out in tears or something equally ridiculous. The others certainly weren't helping, though they weren't quite as annoying about it as Tezuka was, and though the constant babbling from Kikumaru and Jirou could get a bit tiresome at times Atobe still almost felt like yelling at Oishi who tried to shush the two whenever they mentioned anything about his eyes.

Michael's return from his trip to the nearby sweet shop provided a welcome distraction. Atobe had been waiting for him for a while already; he'd been craving these particular sweets that you could only get from the one store. However, as Michael handed him the bag, he leant closer to speak to Atobe in a low tone.

"There was a friend of yours, Keigo-sama," Michael said, so quietly that nobody else probably heard him even if they might have been able to make sense of the English. "In a yellow and black uniform. He seemed to be on his way here but then suddenly left just as we were about to enter the back garden."

Yellow and black uniform. Atobe's eyes widened just a bit. That certainly couldn't be anyone but one person. "Thank you, Michael," he said, not entirely sure even himself if he was referring more to the sweets or the news. "...Everyone, please excuse me for a moment." At the questioning gazes, he snapped, "I'm fine. I just need some air after being suffocated by you lot, all right?"

There weren't any too loud protests as he got up from his seat, pushing away some of the more stubborn ones who didn't step aside in time, walking briskly the way he had seen Michael coming. He threw a glare at Gakuto who tried to offer to help him. As though he couldn't walk by himself.

Atobe had actually expected a couple of them to hang on nevertheless, but found himself somewhat relieved as none did. Not only did he not think Sanada would appreciate such an entourage, but he really was feeling somewhat smothered at the constant attention. Not that he usually had anything against being the centre of attention, of course, but this particular kind of concern and worry was beginning to get irritating. Besides, at times he caught hints that some of the others may not have been exactly as cheerful as they appeared to be, for his benefit, no doubt.

If he never saw Jirou crying again, it would still be too soon.

Sanada hadn't gotten too far, he found. Walking quickly as he did, Atobe soon caught sight of the Rikkai uniform, picking up his pace a little more. Finally, getting close enough for his voice to carry over, he tsked, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "Don't you know it's considered extremely rude to simply leave a party without notifying the host?"

Sanada paused at the sound of his voice, then turned around. "It's not leaving if you haven't arrived yet," he replied.

"Oh, please." Atobe rolled his eyes even as he walked closer. "You were in my backyard, with my butler, quite a ways from Rikkai if I might say so. You aren't exactly going to convince me you just happened to walk by."

"Well, I did." God, talk about stubborn! Atobe folded his arms across his chest, looking at Sanada challengingly.

"Get back over there. Now." It was not a request.

"I doubt I'm wanted there," Sanada replied, tugging his cap lower. It was all Atobe could do to resist the urge to simply take the hideous thing away from his head. "Your teammates attacked me when they last saw me."

"And you think I'd allow them to do that now?" Atobe raised his eyebrows. "Don't be ridiculous, Sanada." He paused. "Why are you here?"

For a moment Sanada was silent. Finally, tugging his cap again, he mumbled, "I came to see you."

"That's all?" Then again, he wouldn't put it past Sanada to be exactly that literal. "And now that you've seen me, you plan to leave, ahn?"

"Yes." No hesitation. That was apparently precisely Sanada's train of thought. Well, Atobe'd be damned if he let such an idiotic buffoon have his way.

"Well, that's not happening." As Sanada finally raised his gaze, looking slightly startled, Atobe added, "I won't allow you to leave. If you can really come all the way from Kanagawa just to see me sitting here, you can damn well take the time to stay for a moment. And before you say anything about my idiotic teammates, they wouldn't cause much trouble in my party." He snapped his fingers. "Tezuka is here, too. Certainly you'd at least be interested in talking with him?"

"They don't need me as a reminder."

"Oh, for the love of God… you're exactly the reminder they need," Atobe snapped. "Perhaps, if those idiots can see that you are here and I want you here, they might be able to understand that my injury is not the end of the world." He sighed. "I don't want or need to be coddled, Sanada. I don't want anyone to think that my life is suddenly ruined somehow." Partly because it made it harder for him to keep himself convinced of that. He would get over this injury, damn it. He would show them all just what he could do, despite this brief set-back. Because that was all this was. Just a momentary disadvantage.

"But it is." Was the man deaf or something? "Your tennis —"

"Will be fine, given time," Atobe interrupted him. "I am still Hyoutei's captain, Sanada. I will remain as captain until the end of the year. And come next school year, I will be facing you again in the high school circuit, make no mistake." He snapped his fingers, again. "If you are so very convinced that there is something wrong with my ability to play… you'll just have to help me train, ahn?"

The look on Sanada's face was momentarily almost relieved, though for what reason, Atobe wasn't entirely sure. "…Hn." Sanada nodded slowly. "But if you're all right… I don't need to be here."

"I just told you I want you here." Both as a reminder to the others that he didn't consider the incident absolutely devastating, and a reminder to himself that he needed to stay firm. "Or are you going to insult both me and my hospitality by refusing?"

"I…" Sanada seemed to hesitate. "They will be mad."

"Then they can damn well be mad at me," Atobe replied, rolling his eyes. Hadn't he already told the idiot that he wouldn't allow anyone to attack Sanada? "Besides, I was going to show my tennis courts to Tezuka and the others. If you do plan to help me with my training, you'd better get acquaintanced with them, too, ahn?" Assuming he could even bring up the subject of tennis without someone looking horrified or about to cry.

"Hn." There was no other response.

"Oh, Lord… come on." Stepping forward, Atobe reached out his hand to grasp on the front of Sanada's jacket. However, his fingers grasped on nothing. Refusing to show any actual reaction to his, he merely took another step. This time, his hand met fabric, taking on a firm grip. "I can be just as stubborn as you can." And he damn well would.

Sanada didn't respond, yet as Atobe started literally dragging him back to the party he didn't protest too loudly, either.

Atobe simply made himself ignore the way Sanada had looked at his hand just then.


	8. Persistence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanada helps Atobe train. However, Atobe is not exactly easy to deal with.

As was often the case with the more attention-gathering figures, there were a lot of things that could be said about Atobe. Sanada was the first one to admit that not all of them were flattering, certainly not even the majority. However, if there was one thing that Atobe couldn't be accused of while still adhering to the barest rules of honesty, it was laziness. Oh, Sanada was certain that he was every bit the spoiled rich kid he appeared to be, but that didn't mean he let himself off easy.

Sanada himself, who wasn't exactly known for his mercifulness when it came to training, had to admit holding some amount of grudging respect for the limits Atobe was ready to push himself to. However, unlikely though it might have seemed, he also didn't entirely agree with such efforts. Under normal circumstances, it was simply the duty of a man to train himself as best he was able; Atobe's circumstances, though, were anything but normal. He wasn't even recovering from a normal injury, which at least would have had some precedent in Sanada's experiences, but rather adjusting to a whole new way of playing that he would have to adhere to for the rest of his life.

Right now Sanada was watching Atobe pushing himself that one bit further, and he couldn't help but think it was perhaps not the best of choices. His rival was absolutely exhausted, that was easy enough to see, yet he insisted that they continue their training. Sanada might have noted how he wasn't quite as tired, himself, but he knew better than that; Atobe was working twice as hard as he was, working to make up for his disability.

"You shouldn't push yourself so hard," he pointed out as Atobe plopped down on a bench, taking a swig from his water bottle. "A man of your level should know his limits."

"I'm not at my limit yet," Atobe snapped back. "Far from that."

"Atobe." Sanada crouched down in front of the other boy, looking at him seriously. "I know you don't like admitting it, but right now, you are still not up to your usual level. You have to expend extra effort and energy just to be able to return my shots, given your... difficulties." He shook his head. "I've already robbed you of enough. I refuse to let you break yourself against me."

"I'm not that easily breakable," Atobe protested. "And I know better than to play further than my body allows."

"With all due respect, Atobe," Sanada resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "never mind the infamous match with Echizen, you continued to play against me with a concussion and a blind eye. I'm not exactly inclined going to believe you when you say you're not pushing yourself too hard."

"...You worry too much." Atobe looked away from him. "Everyone worries too much."

"You've rather given everyone cause to worry, I'd think." Sanada stood up again, stretching himself. "I'm not about to coddle you. I bet your players would want to skin me alive for even playing against you, yet here I am. However, I'm also not an idiot." He rolled his eyes. "My captain is Yukimura. I know all about pushing yourself too far."

"I'm not sick." Atobe sounded rather offended at having been in any way compared to the other captain. So very mature of him.

"No, you're not," Sanada admitted. "However, you have a permanent disability you're just starting to learn to account for. It eats up your energy. The training will be more efficient if you take a break now and continue later."

"You make it sound like I’m an invalid or something."

"Not an invalid, no. However, you are half blind." Sanada gave Atobe a serious gaze. "Don't think I haven't noticed you haven't used Koori no Sekai even once."

Once again, Atobe averted his eyes. "...I can't even get my Insight to work."

"Exactly. Which is why you have to use more energy than usual to keep up with me. I know you pride yourself on your endurance, but you're still not back to normal, and it's about time you accept that."

"Easy for you to say." Atobe shook his head. "You're not the one who has been pushed aside and gets treated like a child by everyone."

"From what I've understood, you are still the team captain until the end of the year," Sanada pointed out. "Most captains have stepped aside by now."

"I'm just the technical captain until Hiyoshi gets the gist of it," Atobe murmured. "Leading a team the size of Hyoutei's is not so simple a matter that just anyone could pick it up overnight."

"Says the man who set himself at the head of it on his first day," snorted Sanada. "And yes, even we heard of it."

"Obviously, I was the better choice." Atobe smirked just a bit before standing up as well. "Shall we continue?"

"I thought I made myself clear," Sanada replied. "We're not continuing until you've had a proper break." As Atobe opened his mouth to protest, he shook his head. "And don't bother arguing. For one thing, you can't exactly play without an opponent, and for another, I checked with your coach. He agrees with me."

"So now you're all conspiring against me. So very typical." Atobe tsked, but the tiny smirk remained on his lips. "In that case, considering our training is going to stretch further anyway, I suppose you won't protest to staying over for dinner?"

"I don't want to be any trouble." It was so very typical of Atobe, making such invitations so easily. Lack of hospitality was another thing he couldn't be accused of, no matter what malicious tongues might have wanted to try.

"And you won't be," Atobe replied. "The kitchen staff won't find any difference in cooking for two. My parents are out, so otherwise I would have to eat all by my lonesome self. You wouldn't be so rude as to refuse, would you?"

"...I'll have to call my parents to let them know." It would indeed have been quite rude of him to spend most of the day over and then abandon Atobe to eat dinner alone.

"So very proper of you." Atobe's expression was almost a... smile, now. "I'll obviously arrange for a car to take you home afterwards. After all, it wouldn't do for you to be a bad example and overexert yourself, now would it?"

Sanada had quite a few choice words to respond with, but none of them were exactly polite, even given the situation.

He did manage to get Atobe to have a proper break, but after that, the other insisted on working himself even further to the ground. Not that this exactly surprised Sanada; he knew exactly how stubborn Atobe could be. By the time they finally finished training for the day, both of them could barely stand. Sanada had never thought he'd get off easy in helping Atobe train, but he also hadn't thought he'd end up quite this exhausted.

It was a rather welcome feeling, though. Very few opponents aside from Yukimura could drive him quite this far, and he hadn't gotten many matches with his old friend lately. His exhaustion also reassured him that despite his injury, Atobe was still capable of pushing him. Certainly, he was getting better every time they played. With time, he'd surely get back to his former level. After all, it wasn't like Atobe would allow for anything else.

The dinner was a strange affair. Sanada felt like he should have behaved especially well with all the fancy tableware and a maid bringing in the food and the butler standing by as though waiting for orders. Atobe, though, seemed to think this quite an everyday occurrence, paying more mind to the dog that hurried into the room to share a dinner with his master. The only time he acknowledged the presence of anyone besides Sanada and himself was when he accidentally knocked over a glass, having apparently misjudged its distance from his hand, and motioned for someone to come and wipe up the resulting puddle. This was done in due hurry and perfect silence, nobody daring to make any mention of Atobe's blunder, Sanada least of all. In just a moment everything was as though nothing had happened, the glass refilled and everything just as before.

Sanada couldn't help but notice the slightest frown marring Atobe's brow as though he were frustrated at his mistake.

The dinner was strange but it did end eventually, and Atobe thanked him for his help and his company, the perfect host when he could be bothered. Sanada was equally polite, thanking him for his hospitality. It still seemed so strange, that Atobe could just invite him to stay over without having to ask his parents or anyone else.

It wasn't until he was on his way home, feeling slightly uncomfortable in the overly luxurious car though his aching bones were quite thankful for the little break, that he realized this was because Atobe was alone in the house, with nobody but his dog and the nigh-invisible servants to keep him company.

He wasn't sure how he felt about the thought, but it wasn't particularly pleasant.


	9. Accomplishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanada doesn't want Atobe to work quite as much as he does.

Approach. Aim. Hit. Running up to the ball, Atobe sent it flying over the net, only to be faced with another one. He hit it back right where the other had landed, only to repeat this yet again. And again. And again.

"…That seems like a particularly pointless exercise, even for you." Without even looking Atobe immediately recognized Sanada's voice from the side of the court. "I know you can return a ball. I've seen it often enough."

"Not as pointless as it may appear," he shot back, not letting his concentration stray further than that. He had to focus on the balls now. On returning them. "It's not hitting them that I'm concerned about." Though at first even that had sometimes been a challenge, given his trouble with measuring distances, after plenty of practice his instincts and experience had managed to combine to allow him to hit the shots he sought to return. Therefore, he was now concentrating on another rather important aspect.

"What do you mean?" From the corner of his eye he caught Sanada walking closer, coming to a halt at the side of the court. The ball machine, though, kept demanding his attention, serving him ball after ball. He returned them all, without fail.

"Do look at where they land." There was a slight smirk on his face as he sent yet another ball flying with a sharp backhand.

Sanada was quiet for another couple of shots. Finally, he nodded slowly. "That's... not bad," he admitted somewhat grudgingly. "They are all hitting the same spot."

"Without fail," Atobe replied, smirking somewhat smugly. "And no, it's not just that particular point on the court. I can now aim them pretty much wherever I want." It had taken quite some doing, considering he now lacked the wonderfully obvious little aspect of three-dimensional sight that most people took indeed for granted. Sanada was certainly aware of this, having played against him all this time, which obviously meant he'd noticed the troubles with aiming. However, Atobe's perpetual stubbornness combined with endless practice had finally overcome this failing, allowing him to actually aim his shots.

He was getting closer and closer to recovery by every passing day. And, frankly, nothing could have felt better.

"...Hn." Sanada crossed his arms over his chest. "And how long exactly have you been training?" He paused, then added, "Today, that is?"

"...Most of the day." He didn't look at Sanada. Of course he didn't look at Sanada. His gaze was focused on the approaching balls, after all, that was the only reason for his aversion.

"That's enough, then." Sanada frowned at him. "I won't have you exhausting yourself."

"I'm not exhausted." Merely tired and worn and aching to the bone, but it wasn't like he had let that stop himself before.

"Atobe." Sanada frowned over to the serving machine, starting to look over it, to find a way to turn it off, undoubtedly. Atobe hoped he wouldn't break it simply by being close. Sanada and technology did not exactly get along. "We've been through this discussion before. You've achieved your goal for the day. I'm not about to tell your team I let you break yourself."

"I'm not going to break," Atobe protested, but did come to a halt as the balls stopped flying towards him. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he glared at Sanada. "I don't need you to treat me like a child."

"We've been through this before, too." Sanada's expression didn't waver from its usual perfect calmness. "I'll help you train, but I'll also keep an eye on you." He shook his head. "...I promised your father."

"You... did?" Atobe blinked. Now, that was news to him. He hadn't even known Sanada had met his father. "First Sakaki, and now him?"

"Yes." Walking closer, Sanada looked at him seriously. "He's... concerned. That you'll push yourself too far. So he... asked me to look after you."

"Splendid," Atobe sighed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "So now he's not content with direct meddling anymore."

"Don't say that." Sanada lowered his cap for a bit as though to avoid his glare. "He's just... concerned. Others, too."

"Well, maybe I don't want their concern!" Atobe snapped. This was just so... infuriating. "So I'm pushing myself as far as I can. That's hardly anything new. I've always trained hard; none of you little worriers ever thought to bother me then."

"For one thing, not all of us were aware of it at the time," Sanada pointed out. "For another, you do have a handicap, whether you want to admit it or not. I do admit you're working hard to make up for it, but —"

"But what?" Atobe interrupted. "I'm working hard but I shouldn't be? I should just sit back contently and accept I'll never be back to normal? Just start whining and moaning, woe pity is me, now look upon my broken self and mourn my loss?" The words were pouring out of his mouth without much of a filter, now. Despite his constant snaps and occasional rants, he'd still mainly kept himself in check about the issue, before. Now, though, he wasn't sure he could hold it all inside any longer. He was just so tired of being fussed over like he couldn't even care for himself...

"Atobe... don't." Slowly, Sanada started walking around the net. "I know you're upset. Anyone would be. I... well. You're strong." Then why couldn't Sanada even look at him while saying it? "Just... don't let it get to you. You're stronger than this. You can do it, but... you must have patience."

"Patience," spat Atobe. "Is that what you told Yukimura when he was working on his recovery? To have patience?" He turned his head away. "I know I haven't been hurt as badly as he was... but that's all the more reason not to fuss over me so much. I do know my limits, Sanada. I've reached them often enough to know. Whatever the state of my eyesight, the rest of my body is more or less intact. I'm not exactly self-destructive enough to push myself beyond those limits."

"Except that to retrain yourself to work with only one eye, you have to push your body." There was a big, strong hand on his shoulder, prompting Atobe to look at Sanada's serious face. "Atobe... you've achieved something great right now. It's time to take a break. We'll have to start working on your Insight next... and I'm sure you'd rather be well rested for that so you can give it your all."

"I'll never recover at this rate," Atobe murmured. "I promised everyone I'd be back in April..."

"And you will. I promise." Sanada looked firmly at him. "You will be back on the courts in April, Atobe. You have my word for that. Until then, though... I'll work with you." A strong grip on his shoulder, just barely short of being painful. "But I can't do that if you don't work with me."

"...Fine." Atobe returned his firm stare with one of his own. "Then I'll hold you accountable if I'm not back in proper condition in time." And he damn well planned to.

"Hn." Sanada just nodded. How... unsatisfying. "I know."

"Well, then," Atobe sighed, "since we're apparently not going to play right now, I guess you'll have to just entertain me, then." He smirked. "After all, I already told the kitchen that you're staying for dinner, and I know you hate to disappoint them."

Now, Sanada tugged his cap a bit lower again. "You're hopeless."

"I prefer the term 'delightfully reliable.'" His smirk got a bit broader.

All in all, today was turning out to be a good day.


	10. Triumph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atobe surprises everyone but Sanada.

Of course, Sanada couldn't say he was exactly surprised.

After all, Atobe did just about everything in as flashy, dramatic a manner as humanly possible. Of course his actual return to tennis would be a matter of spectacle as well. Sanada had heard certain rumours about the time he'd taken over the Hyoutei middle school tennis club, and he hadn't exactly expected the high school club to merit any less of a show.

Nevertheless, he was somewhat surprised as he made his way towards the courts at the time Atobe had asked him to arrive, finding the stands full of people. This wasn't just the tennis club, he noticed; there were other students, too, as well as people from several schools around. He spotted several familiar faces within the crowd, old rivals and opponents, all gathered to see the outcome of this match.

"Looks like half of Tokyo's tennis players are here," he murmured, tugging his cap a bit lower. He felt a bit uncomfortable. Several people seemed to have recognized them.

"Well, it's only to be expected," Renji replied. Renji and Seiichi had insisted on coming along when they'd heard Atobe would be playing again. "After all, not only does this match decide the captain for this year, it's also the first time Atobe Keigo has played in public since his match against you. Obviously everyone would want to see how he does."

"I do hope it won't be a disaster," Seiichi said, smiling sweetly as ever. "That would be just terrible, now wouldn't it?"

"Atobe will do fine," Sanada said, shrugging. He certainly did believe in Atobe's skills. It wasn't just a matter of faith, either; he knew perhaps better than anyone just how well Atobe was doing. He was the one who'd first found himself struggling against the Insight, after all. He'd been there to see the smirk on Atobe's face when he'd reached Koori no Sekai again.

He'd been there when Atobe had finally completed his new technique, one that nobody aside from the two of them knew about yet. Sanada was fairly certain this match wouldn't even bring it out. Atobe wouldn't need such things to regain his rightful position, not now that he was back to his usual condition.

"...Sanada-kun." Looking over, he saw the familiar face of Atobe's father. He didn't exactly know the man very well, but they had talked a few times when they had happened to be at Atobe’s house at the same time.

"Atobe-san," he replied, nodding politely. "I... didn't expect to see you here."

"Yes, well, Keigo never deemed it necessary to tell me when his first match would be," Atobe-san said, raising his eyebrows. "Thankfully Michael decided to inform me as well."

"...Ah." Sanada fiddled with his cap. "Atobe... will be happy." Far as he could tell, it bothered Atobe that his family wasn't interested in his playing. Not that they discussed such things often, or that Atobe would have admitted such things, but... that was the impression he'd gotten.

"...I wonder." There was a peculiar expression on the older Atobe's face.

They had no time for further conversation, though, as the time of the match finally came. It really was too much of a show, Sanada thought, still feeling awkward as they found seats. A match for the succession of a captain could have been just as easily handled during practice, but instead they'd insisted on a separate match complete with announcements and everything, as though it were an official match. According to Atobe, he would have been quite content with a practice match like the one during his middle school revolution, but the current captain had wanted to take the chance to humiliate Atobe in public. Well, it was his own mistake. Sanada was absolutely certain Atobe would not be the one humiliated in this match.

The prize for the winner of the match, the announcer told everyone on the stands, would be the position of the captain. Honestly. If the idiots had been a bit smarter, there wouldn't have been any need for this match; few people would deny that for all his egoism and flashiness, Atobe had been a good captain for three years. And, in Sanada's somewhat biased opinion, he was better than whoever the current captain might be.

There were some whispers going across the stands as Atobe was announced to the court, whispers about his accident and how he hadn't played since and how he was still half blind. Someone remembered Rikkai, and someone else spotted them, and soon far too many people were looking at them and whispering. Thankfully Sanada was quite accomplished in looking completely unaffected, with the other two demons being equally unfazed at the attention.

The match started, though, drawing the attention away from them. The two played at full speed right from the start — or at least it appeared so. It was far too obvious to anyone who knew Atobe's actual playing style that he was just toying with his opponent. This was still far from his ultra-aggressive style. Seiichi and Renji were certainly aware of this as well, not appearing very impressed just yet.

As the match carried on, it was far too obvious that the opponent was making full use of Atobe's injury, aiming his shots on Atobe’s blind side. Nevertheless, Atobe was more than capable of keeping up, even controlling the pace of the game. Sanada snorted. It'd take more than this to give Atobe any trouble.

"What is he doing?" Seiichi sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is just... sad."

"If the match goes on like this, Atobe will win without fail," Renji noted. "With these long rallies, his endurance will win out in the end."

It seemed Atobe was getting bored as well, though, given that he was taking even more control of the game. His special techniques were also starting to make appearances, Tannhauser Serve and Hametsu he no Rondo and others. The score was leaning his way as well. The opponent wasn't bad, he was Hyoutei's high school captain after all, but he was simply no match for Atobe.

Apparently the captain realized this as well. With only a couple of games remaining until Atobe's victory, the match was getting more aggressive on both sides of the net. Sanada frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. He had the most unpleasant feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.

Reaching for a ball on the side of the court, Atobe apparently got the distance wrong, reaching in vain for the ball. Having rushed forward too far to regain his balance, he fell down on the ground. A gasp flew through the audience as they saw his head hitting the court. Sanada found himself several steps from his seat before he even realized he'd stood up.

He wasn't the only one who was concerned, it appeared, with Atobe's old teammates rushing to his side. At least Atobe didn't seem to have hit his head too badly, being already on his feet. However, he had managed to scrape his forehead, blood flowing from the wound.

"Atobe." Sanada pushed his way through the group gathered on the side of the court. "Are you all right?"

"I can still see if that's what you're concerned about," Atobe replied, pressing a towel to his wound. "And yes, I am damn well finishing the match. I'm not defaulting at this point, never mind that he would not give me a rematch." He threw a dirty glance at his waiting opponent.

"He's starting to get the pattern," Sanada murmured. "He knows just the spots to aim for so you'll have more trouble estimating the distance."

"Yeah, well, then I have little choice." Atobe smirked at Sanada even as one of his teammates was busy patching up the wound. Thankfully it really didn't seem to be more than a scrape. "I hadn't meant to use it yet, but... I'd hate for him to feel too good about himself."

"...Indeed." Sanada nodded. "Just... win."

"Oh, I do plan to." Atobe turned back towards his opponent. "I apologize for the interruption," he said smoothly. "Let's continue."

"You sure you can do it?" the current captain taunted him. "Last time you played after an injury didn't go so well, as I heard."

"Yes, well, Sanada actually is a worthwhile opponent, unlike yourself," Atobe remarked wryly. "To defeat someone like yourself... I won't need even one eye." And, to make his point abundantly clear, he closed his eyes.

"Is he crazy?" Shishido stared, apparently echoing the feelings of most people in the audience. "Sure he didn't hit his head again?"

"Not at all." Sanada allowed his lips to curl just a bit. "If Seigaku's Fuji could do it, Atobe certainly can." Atobe's tennis instincts had been quite remarkable to begin with; in his quest to make up for the lack of one eye, he had managed to hone them further than ever before. Far enough, indeed, that he now stood quite confidently in front of his opponent, eyes closed.

It was just like Atobe, he mused, watching calmly as Atobe served the ball to his disbelieving opponent. Something so simple, yet it was all a show, one even flashier than his ordinary matches. Sanada could hear the whispers from the audience, could already imagine the rumors that would soon spread. Not only would Atobe return to the courts and regain his position, he would start a legend, one even more unbelievable than his previous tricks.

Sanada didn't go back to the stands. He didn't want to lose even the little bit of the match he'd have to spend walking to his seat.

Sanada suspected he was the only one in the audience who wasn't especially shocked as Atobe took the match to its conclusion without opening his eyes even once. It wasn't until the score was announced, game set match won by Atobe Keigo, that he finally opened them, a triumphant smirk on his face as he looked over to his opponent.

"I do believe," he said as he walked over to the net, "that this will mean certain changes in the team... former captain."

There was a short silence, as though people had been still trying to wrap their heads around it all. Finally, though, the applause began, deafening as it surrounded them from every direction from the stands.

Sanada lowered his cap a bit to hide his small smirk. So very typical.

As much as he hadn't been surprised at the final result, nor at the fact that Atobe now turned his attention to his loyal supporters, he hadn't exactly expected Atobe to walk immediately up to himself. "Ah... good game." What was he supposed to say? "...Congratulations."

"Thank you." Atobe was smirking up at him. Even with sweat on his face and a patch over the wound, Atobe managed to look almost... pretty, in as much as a man ever could. "Say, Sanada... I have been meaning to ask you something."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. It wasn't like Atobe was exactly lacking in opportunities to ask him just about anything.

"Indeed." Atobe's expression turned more serious, though Sanada still spied a hint of a smirk there. "...Will you go out with me?"

For a moment, Sanada found himself speechless. It was just as well, it appeared, as everyone else was suddenly talking at once, their congratulations from a moment before turned into various expressions of surprise and disbelief. However, apparently Atobe was still waiting for a response, looking at him expectantly. Finally, Sanada managed to ask, "Ah... what do you mean?"

"I mean I'm asking you to go out with me," Atobe replied. "Yes, the two of us, yes, on a date, yes, I am serious, and yes, I am aware your captain is here."

"...Hn." It wasn't just Atobe who was looking at him, now; everyone around them did so as well. He wanted to pull down his cap to hide his expression, but he knew Atobe would not have allowed that anyway.

Atobe was asking him on a date. Him. On a date. He... couldn't say it was entirely outside the realm of possibility that this might happen, but he still hadn't exactly expected it. Certainly not in front of hundreds of people.

"...Fine." He wasn't exactly sure why he said it, wasn't sure what possessed him, but as he saw the smile on the other's face he decided it was just as well. He'd certainly have to explain this to Seiichi as the word got out, and he was fairly sure he spied Atobe's father making his way towards them as well, and Sanada rather suspected this might cause more gossip than the match itself but then it wasn't like he cared much about what was being said about him except when it was about tennis. And, well, if he was going to cause a fuss in Hyoutei, he'd rather do it by dating their new captain than by sending him to hospital.

Of course, he hadn't truly expected to suddenly be dragged closer to find Atobe's lips pressing against his own, but then this was Atobe so Sanada couldn't say he was exactly surprised, either.


End file.
